


Ghosts

by ladymdc



Series: Here we are [1]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Another Story (Mystic Messenger), BE1 sort of turns into the NE, Bad Ending 1, Bad Ending Spoilers (Mystic Messenger), Bittersweet Ending, Character Death, Choi Saeran Route, Consensual Sex, Cunnilingus, F/M, First Kiss, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, I Love Choi Saeran, Implied/Referenced Abuse, MC is an OC, Mental Instability, Mildly Dubious Consent, Moral Drift, POV Main Character (Mystic Messenger), Porn With Plot, Power Imbalance, Recovering Choi Saeran, Regret, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Soft Choi Saeran, and he deserves to live his damn life, but not my soft sad marshmallows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-01 09:18:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18797440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladymdc/pseuds/ladymdc
Summary: What happened to the souls that we used to be?





	1. Stay with me.

**Author's Note:**

> I only played BE1 because I was trying to complete my album for Saeran & omg it was NOT easy. It left me with a lot of feelings, & none of them were good. This started out as a one-shot to simply work out why my MC for his route would do this to him & how she would feel about it.
> 
> However, since I just want Saeran to be happy & free, I was incapable of not giving him that. 
> 
> Beyond the sexual content, this fic is not any more graphic than what you find in his route. I would rather over tag & scare people away than accidentally trigger someone, but it ends as "happily" as I felt it could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told myself I wouldn't post this,  
> but  
> here  
> we  
> are.

Ray knelt at her feet, and his fingertips traced the shape of her leg. She didn’t know what exactly she had done to him until it was too late. It was not something that she looked back on with fondness. But this broken, abused man now belonged to her.

His lips brushed her shin — a whisper of a kiss. 

“Ellenora, my goddess. I love you.” 

She wasn’t sure she was meant to hear any of it, but she couldn’t help it. She was so aware of Ray. Could it still be true? He responded to her, every time, without fail. In the end, Elle knew that was her fault. 

With Ray, she had rediscovered her ability to trust and her faith in love, but when she had learned it was built on a lie, she had broken beyond repair, just like him, in a way. He had come to her room, begging forgiveness, but she had slammed the door on him. After that, she had tried to shut him out. Refused to speak to him. But he wouldn’t,  _ couldn't  _ leave her be.

Feeling betrayed, she had lashed out. Told Ray he was a nobody. No one important. She had done everything she could to hurt him with calculated precision short of dragging him into the basement herself. 

Every time he was alone with her, he could have snapped at her to stop, but never did. Every time she prayed it would be the final thing to turn him away from her, but it never was. Every time she wanted to tell him she forgave him, but the correct words never came. Eventually, it just stopped, and something else started. 

Elle had just wanted to feel something, even if it was only a remnant of their connection, a hint of her dreams, wisps of what could have been. It had been easy enough to sit where she sat every night for his evening report, breasts free, nipples peaked and dark in contrast with the light tone of her skin, legs crossed. To his credit, he had dared not look lower than her eyes.

Until she had told him too. 

At first, Ray had no idea what he was doing. It was fumbling and sloppy, but he was a quick learner. She could scarcely believe how hard he could make her come. Now, however, she would prefer to touch him, but she didn’t know how. He seemed to thrive off of routine and predictability, and she feared what trying to change things might do to him. So she did what she always did when he’d done well that week, she had set this standard after all, and let him hook her legs over the armrests to spread her wide for him. 

As if pleasuring her was some goddamn gift. 

Ray had been stroking and kissing her skin, but the split-second she was positioned, he opened his mouth and with a deliberate press of his tongue, tasted her. His hands eventually landed lightly on her thighs. It always started the same, and he was always slow and attentive and ate her out for what felt like hours but how he did it differed every time. 

Tonight, his tongue traced her folds for several long minutes before his mouth closed over her little bundle of nerves, giving it the most intimate kiss she’d ever had. Elle moaned for him, she couldn’t stop it even if she had wanted to. 

She used to stare him down as he did this. Take in the way his brow pinched in concentration. How the moonlight caught his hair, making it look like spun silver. The way his cheeks turned pink from the noises she made. But she couldn’t, not anymore. Her eyes fluttered closed; like this, she could almost pretend it was real.

Elle felt her climax approaching, and he did too because he eased off, changing to a more languid pattern. The swipes of his tongue were broad now, covering as much of her wet, silky flesh as possible. 

Once he had brought her back from the edge, she said, “Show me how useful you can be, Ray,” because really she didn’t know how else to talk to him. 

His breathing hitched, and his face nuzzled tighter against her slit. She moaned, and he sucked her nub past his lips and tugged with gentle pulls of his mouth. Warmth coiled at the base of her spine. She wanted to give him more than a hint of the pleasure he was making her feel and somehow her hand found its own way into his hair. She wasn’t touching him anywhere intimate, but she hadn’t touched him at all since finding out the truth about Mint Eye and the RFA. 

Ray shuddered, and without warning, his tongue snuck into her entrance and licked deeply, sending a wave of bliss across her senses. He’d never breached her before, and barely a second later her orgasm wracked through her body. 

Once it passed, she extracted her hands from his hair, how the other one got there she didn’t know, and petted it lovingly a moment. It was as soft as she remembered. Then Ray gently set her feet back on the floor and stood to retrieve her robe. Seeing his cock straining against his pants always twisted at her heart, but she looked away instead of dropping to her knees like she wanted to. The elixir wreaked havoc on the body as well as the mind, and it would only be another form of torture.

She owed him so much. The elixir, the Savior, the threat of a cleansing hovering over them, so much could have happened, but he had protected her, sacrificed himself. He was still doing it, even now, whether he knew it or not. 

Elle had to stand up. Keep up the illusion that she was in control for the both of them. But all those moments she had fucked up kept playing over and over in her head until finally, Elle turned her face into her arm, wetting her skin with her tears. This thing between them, whatever it was, continued on because, in her own fucked up way, she was trying to protect him too. The Savior had taken her claws out of Ray, but one wrong step and she would be back to ‘save’ him. 

If only Elle could just reset the past couple of months and start over. 

“I don’t even deserve to breathe if I cannot make you happy,” he said, suddenly in front of her. He slid the silk robe over her shoulders then rested his hands there. He was quiet, whispering. He always was. He even felt like quiet. Still, Elle could feel the need in his voice, hear the fear scraping his throat. She didn’t have to look at him to know, he was looking at her with yearning, not anger or hatred like she deserved, and yet she did. 

“I worship you. So, please, tell me what I should do.” 

“T-tell me what you wish for,” she said, hating herself for stammering. It was something she had never grown out of. A point of insecurity the old Ray adored and this one didn’t register. It was the main reason she didn’t speak to him anymore than necessary. 

Without hesitation, Ray said, “My only wish is for you to stay with me.”

Honestly, she had expected nothing else, and yet she had hoped Ray would have answered differently. She always did. Elle swallowed thickly as a new wave of tears stung at her eyes. She had never cried in front of him, but now that she had started, it seemed she couldn’t stop. 

Tenderly, Ray swiped away the moisture on her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. On nights like this, he always touched her. Never stopped until the door shut behind him. Elle wondered if he knew she would let him do literally anything to her. 

She closed her eyes against the shame. 

“Ellenora—“ 

“Stop calling me that,” she snapped. Elle hated her full name. It was the one word she couldn't say without stuttering. That he used it was Rika’s doing, and she despised her even more for that.

“Please, tell me what I should call you,” he said, sounding mildly panicked. “I apologize for upsetting you, my goddess. Please tell me what I should do, what I should think, what I should feel. I’ll be just the way you want. Please, don’t leave—”

She wrapped her hands around his wrists and pried them from her face, but didn’t let go. 

A sharp inhale from the contact. 

Elle swallowed again, perhaps trying to keep the words down that came up anyway. “I promised I’d never leave you. Don’t you remember?”

No answer.

They stood there in silence a few moments as she stared up at him. He was taller than her, but Elle seemed to tower over him. Ray looked so young and painfully lost. There were no sounds, not even Ray’s breathing. 

“It happened in this room, almost in this very spot. It’s a p-p-promise I always intend to keep, and I’m— I’m sorry I made you believe otherwise.” 

Ray was breathing heavily, she only knew by the shift and rise of his chest; his watery eyes were locked onto her own. Endless pools of gentle sea green, no longer ringed with circles of sleepless nights. Evidence he was doing as told and taking care of himself so she wouldn’t worry, but now… 

The things he had endured, Elle knew, there was little chance of going back from it, and all she was accomplishing was scaring him. Feeling like she couldn’t draw a full breath, she touched on every memory, trying to think of a way to stop herself from breaking him again. She reached back, back to before V had appeared and everything went wrong. 

_ I feel safe thanks to your warm hand. It assures me this is real. … Please keep doing that. Hold on to me when I’m not sure what is happening. _

So she moved his hands down to hang between them and threaded their fingers together. 

“Stay with me,” she said.

After a few moments, Ray seemed to relax and then nodded. For the first time ever, Elle wondered if she could still save him after all.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There might be more, I have no idea. 🙈
> 
> Also, Elle's face claim for any interested: [here](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1UkIuvPnAdTdUQrPRoy8e6EwW5DbGRecn/view?usp=sharing).


	2. It doesn't matter if you hate me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New title, new summary, because what was supposed to be a one-shot to simply work out my feelings is now A Thing  
> because  
> I  
> am  
> trash.

Every page began with a date in the upper left-hand corner. Then sketches. Things that stuck out in her mind as Elle looked back on the day. It was a quiet, peaceful way to process everything. A habit she had carried with her since childhood. 

When she had first arrived at Magenta, Ray couldn’t understand why she had immediately declined his offer to buy her a set of colored pencils. Instead of attempting to explain, Elle had simply shown him that there was black, and there was white, but there were also a million shades of grey in between. He had seemed mesmerized at the way the flower he had chosen bloomed to life on the page. 

“It’s beautiful,” he had murmured. “Like you.” 

That night, she had immortalized that very moment. The way his impossibly long lashes swept across his cheekbones when he looked down. The gentle darkening of his pale skin. And, of course, the slight lift to one corner of his mouth. It was the first time she had seen that specific smile. Ray had so many kinds, but Elle had stopped expecting to see any of them ever again in reality. Or smiling herself for that matter, at least genuinely. It no longer seemed possible for either of them. 

Earlier that evening, however, the two of them had been sharing silence and a small picnic in what used to be his favorite place on the grounds. The outing was Elle’s chosen reward for Ray for collecting the last piece of intel on the RFA members, as stated by Requirement No. 27. A luxury, and risk, for both of them. Feeling as if she were being spied on, and in a way perhaps she had been, Elle had stopped shading a blossom and looked up suddenly. Immediately, Ray had turned his head aside, but she could have sworn… 

Elle mulled it over while working on the shading of his hair, that hint of pink that was unnoticeable save for when Ray was in specific lighting. Had she really seen him smile or had she just wanted to? Elle wanted  _ so much. _ To go back and change it all. To find a way forward. To hear him say he hated her, that he forgave her, that he—

A scream tore through the night. The sound was so full of fear and pain that her blood ran cold. Elle launched out of bed and hurried through the suite to the source. Three steps from his bedroom, Ray broke off. There followed a wet, ragged inhale. Then he choked something out that sounded like her name as she appeared in the doorway. 

“Ray,” she answered, then dropped down onto the mattress facing him, her right leg pressing against his.

At the proximity, Ray seemed to defensively curl in on himself. Elle could hardly blame him. It was the result of a lifetime of conditioning, and even though she had never physically harmed him, she had still caused him plenty of pain. Long after she took his hand in both of hers — slowly, so he knew what she was doing — he continued to radiate stress. It wasn’t until Elle began to repetitively trace the bones in the back of his hand with her thumbs that the trembling stopped. 

Their whole dynamic had been tainted by Rika. Normal was never a part of it. There had always been a limit to their freedom, to what they could give one another, and to what they could receive in return. Rika had called her clever the night she had put Ray under her care when in truth, Elle had been naive and blind. Anger had quickly given way to fear, and Elle didn’t help him soar, she broke his wings. 

It was far too late to help him fly, but she wanted to at least see him walk again. To do that, she needed him there with her. Getting approval had been easier than anticipated. All it had taken was showing Rika the spartan accommodations Elle had prepared and voicing her desire to finally take complete control over Ray, which, in a way, had been true. 

From that moment on, the elixir had been delivered to Elle, and then every day, a little more went down the drain instead of his throat. His usual blank expression slowly shifted into something more present. He began to eat faster, talk more, and eventually sleep less. The latter was to be expected because when she discovered Ray was taking a potent tranquilizer to comply with her desire that he get more rest, Elle began easing him off of those too. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Yes. I’m sorry I disturbed your rest,” Ray said in a quiet, barely audible whisper. 

“You didn’t,” Elle told him. “I promise.”

“Still, you shouldn’t have to bear my whining. You should be mad—“

“I’m not,” she interrupted, gently. 

Ray turned his head toward the wall a moment, before finally meeting her gaze. The naturally golden hue of his eyes was so warm and soft it reminded her of sunset. Every time she saw him without his colored contacts, Elle wished she had accepted his offer to buy those pencils after all. 

“Why am I so weak?”

“It was just a nightmare, everyone has them.”

“No. Not like that. Weak Ray, Useless Ray; I’m not Saeran. I shouldn’t be here,” he said. There was no self-pity in his voice. He spoke plainly as if everything he was saying was a simple, verifiable truth. But he did look upset. “Only bad things will happen if you have to see me all the time, and then you’ll leave me too.” 

Ray paused to take a deep, measured breath, and that was no good. The other day he had dropped a lightbulb in the sitting room, and they ended up talking in circles like this for what felt like an eternity. So before he could speak, Elle stopped him with a kiss.

He went rigid. “What— what are you doing?”

“Kissing you,” she said. Really, it had just been the press of their lips together, and it hadn’t felt that much different from any other passing touch. Except his hand had tightened its hold on hers, and Elle liked how he seemed to be keeping her close. 

Ray blinked. 

Finally. 

“Why?”

Because she didn’t know how else to shut him up or make him listen or help him understand. After everything Elle had done, was there even anything she could say that would reach him? Probably not, so by way of answer, she kissed him again. 

It was tentative. A cautious caress of her mouth against his. It didn’t matter that he had no idea what he was doing. What mattered was Ray started kissing her back. 

Until Elle extracted one of her hands from his grip and he froze.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she murmured, touching his face. Her thumb pressed against his bottom lip. It was slightly chapped, and she made a mental note to get him some lip balm. “I want to be here, kissing you.” 

Elle cupped his cheek and angled her head so they would fit together perfectly. It was delicate and soft. Sweet. Just like him. And it did feel perfect. Her hand moved to feather her fingers through the soft, silky hairs at the nape of his neck. 

Ray broke away suddenly. 

“Forgive me,” he stammered, shifting uncomfortably. “I can’t control— My body it—”

“I don’t expect you to,” Elle told him, moving her hand to rest over his heart. It was racing out of control much like her own.

“Lay down,” she said, putting gentle pressure on him to ease him back. 

“But I haven’t—” Ray protested even as he leaned back on his elbows.

“This has nothing to do with our mission.” Her hand moved down his smooth chest, past his ribs, to trace the waistband of his briefs. She paused a moment, staring into the eyes locked onto hers. “Just you.” 

“I don’t deserve—”

“I want to make you feel good,” Elle told him.

Ray made a tight sound from the back of his throat as she slipped her fingers into the waistband to pull it out and over his erection, being very careful not to touch him, then down past his hips as they slightly lifted to assist her. His cock was impossibly hard against his lower stomach, and already there was a bead of moisture on the tip. His face and neck were flushed, eyes wide but dark. 

Her lips returned to his, and there was a small intake of air. Ray must have been anticipating her to suck him off again, and while she loved having his cock in her mouth, she loved having his mouth on hers even more. Just last week, Elle had done what she always wanted to and grabbed hold of his hips once he was done eating her out to pleasure him. There had been enough elixir left in his system to allow her to draw it out, but not enough to keep him from coming at all. 

This week, she had sat naked before him, like always, but had stopped him from dropping to his knees. She had palmed him through his khakis, lovingly, as she had praised his efforts and once he had been semi-hard took him in her mouth again.

And now… 

She licked across the seam of his lips, just barely, as if asking permission. Hesitantly, he opened to her, and she brushed her tongue against his. He tasted faintly of mint.

Then she touched him. 

He started from the contact, breath gusting across her mouth, and he swallowed, perhaps stifling a noise. Elle pumped experimentally, earning her another little sound from the back of his throat. Her hand didn’t move the length of him, just small tugging motions — loosely stimulating but firm enough to be felt.

“You can touch me.”

“I shouldn’t.” 

“You should, but only if you want to,” Elle stipulated. If he ever touched her again, it would be because he wanted to.

His hands instantly moved to her hair, caressing and holding her head carefully, even as he laid flat. Elle willingly went with him, allowing his tongue to continue its tender exploration of her mouth. Finally, she began to stroke the entire length of him with long, slow pulls.

Eventually, Ray broke away to gasp for breath, but he continued to cradle her head in his hands. Elle rested her forehead against his. He was leaking so much precome her hand glided effortlessly along his length, and Elle began twisting a little on each upstroke. 

“I want you to have whatever you want within these walls,” she told him.

He began to make little breathless sounds, and each one sent a shiver of delight shooting up her spine. She was getting wetter by the second. She could probably make herself come doing this. She would gladly do this until she died, live off the noises he made until she did.

“This can be your paradise.” 

“Elle, I—“

“Yes, Ray, t-tell me what you wish for.” 

“I—“ 

Ray cut off on a strangled noise, then shuddered as his orgasm rocked through him. His seed shot in thick pulses, across her arm and the sheets. Elle continued to stroke him slowly. Grip loose enough to prevent over-stimulation, but present enough to guide him through his release. 

In the following silence, he was breathing, heavily, and she was barely breathing at all. 

His cock throbbed in her hand, hard as ever, and for a moment she wondered if he was turned on enough to simply need a moment to catch his breath and then start again. Elle was about to ask him when he said, “Don’t ever leave me.”

“I won’t,” she promised. 

Ray let out a sigh of pure relief, and Elle leaned back into him to seal it with a kiss. Then she cleaned them both up and took him to her bed. Ray stood there a moment, looking down at the open sketchbook. She had jumped when he screamed earlier, snapping the lead of her pencil as it scratched uncontrolled across the page. His hand trembled as he reached out and touched the dark line. Elle didn’t know quite what to make of it. 

“I don’t deserve to have you care for me,” Ray whispered. 

“You deserve so much more than what little I’ve given you. One day you’ll realize that, and when you do, it d-doesn’t matter if you hate me, I still won’t leave you.”

He looked up suddenly. Frowning as his golden eyes searched hers. “I will never hate you.”

“You will.”

And he did.


	3. I need to protect you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all know how horribly Saeran treated MC and I have no interest in rehashing that. I’m here  
> for  
> soft  
> marshmallow  
> feels.

Being afraid of the dark was a child’s fear. Another thing Elle had never grown out of. It wasn’t that she feared what might be lurking in it. Real horrors walked under the sun just like everyone else. The dark simply made her feel unmoored. Submerged in it, nothing existed, not even her.

Her whole world was dark now.

She managed it like she did when she was younger, by curling up in a ball and waiting for it to lift or for something to grab hold and drag her out. At one point, the suffocating pressure lessened, and her limbs stirred as if moved by some urgent purpose, but unable to grasp onto what it was, Elle got dragged back down into the darkness. Whatever Saeran had given her would probably keep her buried forever in it.

Elle had wanted to escape the darkness that surrounded this place with Ray, but the darker it became, the more difficult it was to remember why she had tried. All she could recall was he hadn’t been just a lover or a friend or someone to hold onto in the night, but a piece of her very soul, and that she hoped he wasn’t afraid anymore.

Even in her current state, the idea he was sent a stab of pain through her chest.

After being trapped for hours, or even days maybe, little by little, the darkness released its hold on her. The heavy feeling in her body dissipated. Then Elle became aware of the dryness in her throat and mouth, the painful crack in her lower lip. It took several tries to blink away the drug-induced haze from her eyes, but eventually, she realized her sight was working just fine.

She was, in fact, really looking at a small square vase full of fresh flowers on the night table. Tulips for pure love, the color white for forgiveness. A memory surfaced then, and Elle didn’t have the strength to escape its cruelty. It was the last time she had seen Ray. After giving her this exact bouquet, he had avoided looking her directly in the eyes as his hand nervously tapped against his thigh. When he had begun to speak, it was in a quiet, tremulous voice and the words had seemed almost nonsensical. Telling her the Savior needed Saeran, not him, to complete Requirement No. 29, and that he might not ever see her again.

There had been nothing she could have done, and everything that followed, Elle deserved.

Including this.

Her vision swam. Elle knew whatever existed between them was gone. All that was left was her promise. But now that Rika understood how deep it ran, she couldn’t—

“Are you awake?”

She jumped at the proximity of his voice. It seemed to come from directly behind her, and Elle was in her old bed, in her old room, and shouldn’t be. The thick comforter and soft, silky sheets had her legs trapped, and she frantically struggled to free herself. To get on the floor where—

“Elle, stop— Elle!” Saeran grabbed her as she began to topple out of bed.

She winced as pain radiated through her arms then she went very still as he peeled back the blankets and resituated her in bed. Her heart felt like it was going to beat right out of her chest. Even more so when Elle registered she was wearing a white t-shirt that belonged to him and nothing else.

“I’m not going to torment you anymore,” he said, brushing his fingertips over one of the deep bruises on her arm; almost in apology. Then touched her face to encourage her head to lift.

His gaze was golden, not green, and the circles under his eyes looked like bruises. Knowing him, he probably hadn’t gotten any sleep in days. Saeran never seemed to sleep and he certainly never allowed her to look at him, but Elle also never went against his wishes. She caught a hundred and one details as they stared each other down. His usual jacket and tie were missing, the top two buttons of his white shirt were undone and it was slightly rumpled, the skin near a few of his nails had been chewed raw, and his hand was trembling as he lightly pressed his thumb to her bottom lip — a familiar gesture that made her eyes water.

“Remember?”

Elle nodded. Slowly. She wasn’t sure who she was looking at, but it wasn’t the man Rika destroyed, nor the one bent on destroying her, but someone new. It was the Saeran that had come in late, made her eat, gave her the medication, then required Elle to wash off the perfume that had transferred onto her when Rika had hugged her. But beyond getting in the tub… He must have dressed her and put her to bed because she could remember nothing else.

His touch lingered on her face a moment more, then he turned aside. “Here is some aspirin, and I’d like you to drink this entire glass of water.”

The pills felt like they lodged in her throat, but the water was cold and soothed something in her besides just the thirst. Once finished, Saeran put the empty glass back on the night table then fished out a small yellow object from his pocket.

“For your lip,” he said.

It took a minute, but eventually, Elle managed to close her fist around the familiar, much-used tube of Bart’s Bees to stop the shaking. But it was pointless, her whole body was shaking. She had learned she could endure anything for him, but Elle could feel that lightness in her chest, that flicker of hope, and she didn’t want to give in. There would be no putting herself back together if she let it break her apart. Still, it seemed she couldn’t stop herself.

“Are the flowers from you too?” Elle asked in a voice she fought to keep steady.

“I shouldn’t have thrown them away in the first place.”

There was plenty of blame to go around, but as far as she was concerned, Saeran was absolved from all of it. For his entire life, he’d been punished for things out of his control, and Elle had refused to punish him for something else that was Rika’s doing. It was why she never bothered to defend herself. That and in keeping her promise, she had still been protecting him; Elle was just the one taking the beating instead of him. Which was fine. But she should have expected a new game would begin once the mission surrounding the RFA neared completion.

She could feel the hysteria rising again. The entire conversation with Rika had been full of sweet smiles and thinly veiled threats that had uprooted Elle’s belief that Saeran would be safe, that the Savior was finally content enough to leave him alone, that—

“Elle, stay with me,” Saeran said, taking her hand in both of his.

The touch was gentle, so gentle, but he may as well have slammed her into the wall again. All the general fear Elle had been feeling condensed into an immediate fear of the person before her. It suddenly occurred to her that it was impossible to know if Saeran was sincere. This wouldn’t be the first time he’d pretended to be Ray to mess with her, and given how irate Saeran had been when he accused her of conspiring with Rika, Elle wouldn’t put this level of commitment past him.

Fight or flight adrenaline coursed through her, and the shaking became more pronounced. Her mouth began to rapidly fill with saliva. Elle swallowed down the taste of vomit and opened her mouth for her standard reply in this situation, but then she started crying.

“Saeran, I can’t do this anymore,” she sobbed, and suddenly he was embracing her as if trying to keep the fractured pieces together. That was when she  _ knew  _ this was real, and Elle found herself hanging on just as tightly.

“This is all my fault,” Saeran murmured. “I’m so sorry…”

“I wanted to be with you. I tried to make it right, but she t-t-took you away from me.”

“I know.”

“I need to protect you, but I can’t. She said I can’t save you.”

“Elle,” he said, leaning away from her, but she wouldn’t let him go. 

Not again.

“Please don’t leave me again,” she pleaded. Now that some piece of him was back within her reach, it would always,  _ always  _ be what she feared the most.

“I won’t. Never again, but Elle, listen to me.”

She couldn’t help but look at him like the hands on her face wanted.

“You’ve already saved me.”

Elle shook her head, then shook it again because it couldn’t be that easy.

Saeran tenderly swiped away the tears on her cheeks. “I’ve been so tense with fear for so long except when I was here with you. Even the cleansing couldn't make me forget that. But I kept thinking of the way you looked at me and the way you touched me, and it hurt every time because I realized you believed in me and I couldn’t begin to understand why. It made me so mad because I never wanted to let you hurt me again, but when I thought you were finally leaving me,” he said, and then something in his expression broke.

She tried to speak, to apologize for allowing that to happen, but his mouth found hers. Caught the words as they left her.

The kiss was lingering. Hesitant and unsure.

“There will always be struggle,” Saeran whispered as he sunk his fingers deeper into her hair. “But I’ve realized I don’t have to struggle alone.”

There was a long moment where there was nothing but beautiful stillness between them. Just Saeran’s words sinking into her very being, the warmth of his hands, the feel of his breath fanning across her mouth. Then Elle registered he was waiting for her to do  _ something.  _ The fingers that gripped his shirt finally loosened, and she said, equally quiet, “Tell me what you wish for, Saeran.”

A staggered exhale. Relief, that was what it tasted like. Then Saeran pulled her toward him as he grazed her lips again and again in slow, intimate strokes. There was no rush, not even when Elle opened her mouth into the kiss. She was aware, vaguely, that this wasn’t the exact man she had fallen in love with, but his tongue sliding against hers felt so  _ right  _ Elle knew she loved him all the same. And she thought she could cry again when he broke away to tell her, “I want to be the person I want to be.”

Saeran cupped his hand around the side of her neck and slid his thumb over her bottom lip again. “I want you to choose me.”

“I’ll always choose you.”

Smiling that  _ smile _ she never thought she’d see again, Saeran leaned back into her, eyes already closing. She slid her hands down from his shoulders to unfasten one button. Then another. Slowly, she got him out of his clothes then she subconsciously took in every detail of his body, comparing it to the image permanently ingrained into her memory.

He was still so beautiful it hurt. His cock was hard, as gorgeous as it always was, but Saeran was thin, so thin, and he was looking at her with something so dangerously close to how Ray used to look at her. Suddenly, Elle was more scared for him than she’d ever been. Afraid of how pliant he was in her hands; afraid of only holding him back. So, instead of having him lie down like she always used to, Elle leaned back, allowing her legs to fall open. Immediately, Saeran touched her bare thigh. Then his hand curled around it.

“Elle,” he murmured, almost like a prayer.

“Every time we were together, I would have let you get away with anything just so you could have something you wanted.”

“I just wanted you,” he said, settling between her legs. “Any way I could have you.”

Saeran pushed the t-shirt up, and cool air rushed over her skin. Then came his hands, his lips and tongue. He pressed a kiss to her navel and tasted the soft skin of her belly before moving the fabric up to expose her breasts. Every feather-light touch on her body was so precisely placed she could still feel it long after his attention had moved elsewhere. Her eyes squeezed shut, bracing herself against the waves of pleasure threatening to drown her, and she wondered if this was what he had felt like all the nights she had spent worshiping him; trying to show him how she felt instead of telling him.

“Saeran, I love you,” she confessed brokenly.

“Elle, my angel,” he said, stroking her face with one hand as he braced himself above her with the other.

She wasn’t an angel, perhaps a fallen one, but she was his. And he might not have said it back, but when he kissed her, soft and slow, it was full of all those other things she wasn’t really quite sure how to say. A silent  _ I love you  _ nonetheless. Then he reached between them to part her with the head of his cock, and she leaned up into him, beginning to kiss him again as he finally pressed inside her.

Once his hips were tight and flush against her, Saeran pulled back and started moving a bit, shallow and halting. Her hand stroked over his bare back, meant to be a reassuring gesture, but really Elle just wanted to  _ feel  _ him. He reached for her hand then and laced their fingers together. With that point of contact, whatever was holding him back, melted away, and his thrusts started to smooth out. Pulling his hips back until just the tip remained, then rolling back into her.

Elle angled her own hips, and when Saeran next sunk back into her, his cock hit some particularly sensitive spot no one had ever touched before, and she let out a moan. Throughout, she kept her hands on him, feeling the lean muscle tighten and flex as he moved above her. When he buried his face in the crook of her neck to tenderly explore it with his mouth, overwhelming her with sensation, Elle repeatedly ran her fingers through his hair. Saeran gasped a soft noise as she spread even wider, welcoming him even deeper. The sound sent the pressure coiling in her lower spine to unbearable levels.

“Saeran. Kiss me. Please.”

He did, and that was it; her orgasm washed over her, like a wave breaking on the shore, and she gripped Saeran’s shoulder, trying to pull him even closer than he already was as a shattered sigh left her lips. Distantly, Elle felt him speed a hair up just to slow back down as he came with a soft throbbing inside her. She wanted to kiss him through it but only managed in holding his head to hers.

Eventually, his lips found hers, and it wasn’t until he started to go soft inside her that Saeran stopped and pulled out. Then he simply settled his body on top of hers; his head rested on her chest, his breath was warm on her breast. As Elle felt his heartbeat slow and fall into time with hers, she petted his hair and traced mindless shapes into his skin. 

“She’ll know,” Elle told him after a minute or two of nothing but comfortable silence and slowly cooling skin. “And she won’t tolerate it.”

“We will figure this out,” he said. “Together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) How the writers change a random letters of brand names to avoid trademark infringement brings me endless joy (Pizza Hat lolol), so that's why I called the lip balm Bart's Bees.
> 
> (2) Just to sort of explain my decision with this chapter regarding suit Saeran emerging: I do think it is an essential step to him mentally evening out, but most importantly, Rika would have eventually noticed what Elle was doing. While things were progressing in her favor, she'd leave it be; we know her motives are largely self-centered. HOWEVER, we also know that Rika believes unconditional love harms people like her/Saeran, so once she'd gotten everything she needed out of them, she would have put a stop to what was going on by any means necessary.


	4. You matter more than me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended mostly how I had wanted considering if I could go back and change some things about CH3, I would, but you know what... I worked out my BE1 feelings,  
> so  
> mission  
> accomplished.

For those who had a good one, family was sacred. Elle had been born into one so poor it was a rare day when she went to bed without feeling pangs of hunger. Her mother and father were long gone now, but she held no ill will toward them. Not everyone was meant to be a parent, and thanks to them, she understood hunger. 

It was Saeran who had taught her the importance of it. A hunger for life, for a future, for love. In the end, it was hunger that propelled her to pull the trigger. Yes, many people had suffered a great deal of misfortune because of V, but as Elle looked down at him, lying inert on a soiled mattress in tattered clothes being devoured by lice, something inside her succumbed to it. She felt as if she were looking at the world through eyes that were no longer hers. Seconds later, a thunderous crack; she hadn’t even flinched. Behind her, people shouted and took cover, but it was over. 

Finally. 

His brother standing at her side understood that. Elle could feel it, all the anger and fear leaving his body to disperse into the putrid air around them. Then he simply took the gun from her hand and reholstered it as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

“I have your bookmark,” she told him. 

“You can keep it until Saeran is ready for me to have it.”

Off to their right, V groaned as people descended upon him. He was alive after all. That was good. But as Elle watched someone pluck Rika’s lifeless body from the floor to put it on a stretcher, she felt nothing. 

Not even relief. 

At that moment, Elle knew she would never be the same. “Where is he?”

“Outside with Jumin. He’s pissed I wouldn’t let him come in but after everything he went through here, I couldn’t—“ 

Elle looked over at Seven. “Thank you for that.”

The next several days were foggy for her. Intermittent. Elle had been so tired, and there was a lot of medication. There was medication in the morning, and then again at night. It was her only constant; everything else seemed to be a continuous shifting succession of images seen or imagined. A hospital room. The view from the bed in Rika’s suite. Familiar faces sitting across from her at a conference table. Curls of steam rising from a teacup and blue chiffon against her skin.

Jumin and Saeyoung sat her down to explain; Jaehee even apologized for what she might have endured because of the change in plans. Not that anyone knew the extent of it, Elle wouldn’t say. But there was no need for them to bother. She was the one who had put forth the original idea knowing full well what risks she may have to face.

Shortly after their reconciliation, Elle and Saeran had been forbidden to see one another. He had resorted to setting up in a secret channel in the RFA app just so they could safely speak, and when his twin inevitably stumbled upon it, Elle had forsaken the rest of those promises she had made to V and told Saeyoung everything. With that done, there was no need to ask for help; it had been given, and Saeran leaving Magenta under the guise of completing Requirement No. 29 had been the perfect cover. The C&R Intelligence Unit detonating the bomb to stage his death had been a necessity Elle had overlooked. The decision had protected Saeran from the possibility of prosecution after the raid and ultimately from the Prime Minister. From there, it didn’t matter what had happened to her, and Elle told them as much.

“How can you say that?” Saeyoung asked, looking concerned.

She answered easily: “because he matters more than me.” Saeyoung, of all people, should understand that. 

Saeran started to cry then and Elle, unable to process causing him more pain, disappeared again into the fog. 

When they took her to the island, Elle had to concentrate on her surroundings, had to search for clues as to whether or not she was simply lost up in her own head. Without the medication, everything was so tangible, even her memories, and it was hard to differentiate. She could hear the delicate chime of Rika’s voice whispering in her ear, but there was also the murmur of water and the rustle of wind through leaves. Elle breathed in wet dirt and the sea, and watched the turquoise sky get so dark, it was like night in the middle of the day. Then the rain came down suddenly in thick sheets. 

Someone grabbed hold and dragged her out of the terrible storm. Despite being soaked and her body shivering, Elle felt cleansed and more in touch with the world around her than she had in a while. When a fluffy, white towel slid over her shoulders, she dug her fingers into it as a familiar touch gently landed on top of it. Elle didn’t have to look to know who it was, and yet she did.

His warm golden eyes overwhelmed her with sadness and longing. After everything, she didn’t really know what to say but, “I love you.”

“I love you more,” Saeran said, then burst into tears. “I love you so much. Without you I—”

Elle held him together with all her might.

“I’m so sorry I left you there. I promised I would never leave you again, but I did.” 

“It was the only way,” she said, fighting to hold back her own tears.

“I should have taken you with me.”

“It would have been suicide. There were so many people watching us.”

“And then when I came back for you, you just… slipped through my fingers as if you were never there. I was so scared. I didn’t know what—“ 

Like the first time, Elle kissed him to shut him up. She had forgotten why it had all been  _ worth it _ until she felt the press of his lips against hers. The warmth of him was intense but delicate. He tasted like home, like mint and the rain. 

“We’re t-together now,” she said. The past was inextricably linked to the present, she knew that, but Elle just couldn’t see how talking about it would help. “That’s all that matters.” 

Saeran touched her face with the hand that had been in her hair; thumb pressing into her bottom lip as she looked up at him. The gesture was comforting and grounding in a way Elle never would have believed possible until it had become so.  

“I missed you,” he said, then kissed her harder than he ever had. 

They kissed for ages, and eventually, the brush of his tongue against hers made need begin to pool in the pit of her stomach. “Saeran,” she said. “I want you.”

“I’m yours. I always have been,” Saeran said, hands straying to the zipper on the back of her dress, working it open. It had been so long, too long since they had last been together, but his motions were not impatient; Saeran was never impatient. Their intimacy was always slow and unhurried, a focus on sensation, on each other. 

“I want you to be free,” she replied as he slid the dress from her shoulders. 

One corner of his mouth ticked up. “I am, thanks to you.”

Elle stepped out of the cotton bunched up around her feet and reached out, releasing the button on Saeran’s slacks and sliding the zipper open. Instinctively, she moved her hands to the bare skin of his chest once he pulled the shirt over his head. Each beat of his heart seemed to echo through her down to her very core where hers would answer in turn. With him, Elle was more real than she ever had been separate.

If only she had accepted that sooner. 

Pressing lightly against his chest, Elle eased him back to the bed. There, she finished undressing him, and once he was settled into bed, reclining against the headboard, she stripped herself bare and straddled his hips. Elle lifted up on her knees to line up atop his cock. When she finally started to sink down, so very slowly, his head fell back and his breathing hitched, just like the night she had taken his virginity.

She then moved up and back down, achingly slow; his hands loosely held onto her hips, tightening on occasion as if he were worried she was going to lift right off of him instead of sinking back down. Elle loved taking him like this, slow and tender. It always overwhelmed her to see how much pleasure she could bring him. Having Saeran with her, having Saeran inside her was just as erotic as the act itself, and Elle wondered how she had ever let anyone else touch her before him. 

It should have only ever been him, it would forever only be him. 

Soon, a calm yet fierce warmth spread through her like syrup, smoothing out the broken, jagged edges. The sensation was strange, like nothing she had ever experienced before, but her body was reacting to it. She could feel the tension building within her.

“You cannot understand how good you feel,” she said. Her thighs began quaking from the effort of being so careful, but it was worth listening to how his breath caught or the little sounds that began escaping his lips. 

“I understand.”

“No, you don’t. You  _ are  _ good.”

Whatever he was going to say broke off on a sudden exhale, then he started thrusting up into her, meeting her slow push and pull rhythm. It was something Saeran had never done before, but all the sensations and pleasure that started to roll through her because of it was absolutely: “Perfect.”

She leaned over him, letting her head drop forward so she could kiss him. The angle worked for her, and she swore he got a little deeper inside her just from the change. He must have felt it too because another wave of pleasure rocked through her as Saeran came. 

“I missed you too. So much,” Elle gasped, and then she was coming too. 

Afterward, they clung onto one another, and she buried her face into his neck to take in the rosewood scent of his skin. By stages, she released him, but at the last second pressed close for one more kiss before curling up at his side. With her hand in his, she slept peacefully for what felt like the first time in months.  

When she woke, time seemed more linear. There were still days where it felt like a watershed, and others like a stagnant pool, but she relearned how to handle that, to keep busy again. They fell back into long forgotten comforts. Saeran absorbed the world around him; Elle recorded it. And thanks to Jumin’s request that they study the island, they felt useful; in a good way. Of course, the bad never left. Nightmares plagued them, but they got through it wrapped in one another’s arms like they had for a short duration back at Magenta. 

One day, Saeyoung showed up out of the blue with news about their father’s imprisonment. Maybe he couldn’t stand it in Korea without his brother, or maybe he just didn’t trust it was over, but he never left again. Although Elle still had his bookmark, she knew someday Saeran would be ready to gift it to him. Until then, she did what she could to bridge the gap because Elle remembered how difficult it had been when she didn’t know how to talk to him anymore. As it was, Saeran was intrinsically quiet, not really speaking to anyone but her, and it got a little worse when the rest of the RFA arrived a few weeks later for the first quarterly visit.

Saeran had gotten dizzy from the heat, or at least that was what he had told everyone, and excused himself in the middle of dinner out on the veranda. It was a plausible excuse; even at the late hour, the air felt oppressive. Soon clouds would roll in off the bay, and it would storm. Elle could smell it on the gust of wind that played with her hair. But for now, the sun was a platinum white marble surrounded by a crimson sky, preparing to sink into the sea. 

After fifteen agonizing minutes of facing the RFA alone, she joined Saeran upstairs out on the balcony attached to their bedroom. It was where they always went when they needed a moment of stillness. Elle leaned against the stone railing alongside him and closed her eyes. Eventually, her heart slowly stopped feeling like a sparrow trapped in her chest, and the trembling in her hands ceased.

“Are you ok?” 

“I am now,” he said. “How about you?”

Elle gently shook her head. “I don’t know,” she admitted. Looking at V had felt too much like looking into a mirror. Just a shell of the person that they could have been. 

Saeran consoled her with a kiss on the cheek. It was comforting, the inherent softness of him, it always was. 

“I’m sorry I keep breaking my promise to you.”

“You’re always with me even when you don’t think you are.”

Elle supposed that was true in a way. Even for the sake of self-preservation, she could no longer fully dissociate from reality. Inside her, the divide remained, but Elle was not a woman who complained. In the end, she had gotten what she wanted, even if she could never accept what she had done to get it. 

Perhaps Rika had been right.

Perhaps love was an incurable disease.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [commissioned artwork by [lonicera-caprifolium](https://lonicera-caprifolium.tumblr.com). Go commission this lovely muffin 🖤]

**Author's Note:**

> Songs that gave me The FeelsTM as I wrote this:
> 
>   * [Don't Really Know What to Say](https://open.spotify.com/track/40aDCK9BkA9PJP6Qe2Zr0h?si=p3Sm4oY0SQyrysoecCZH0w) \- Desert Noises
>   * [Even If It Hurts](https://open.spotify.com/track/624kXEM3chBTPf21QTLOsH?si=D28U6i1qRbCOSUF0kyBaHw) \- Sam Tinnesz
>   * [He](https://open.spotify.com/track/1bc28ebMDp7ym6rHfqFfj0?si=Efq_mzhGQGugRGW30t5yQw) \- TAL
>   * [I Can Hear Your Laughter on the Wind](https://open.spotify.com/track/02mUXaYRr3nt1ZP38PIz79?si=L1fuIV08RyyrONH1nhGE-A) \- The Lulls in Traffic
>   * [You Are My Sunshine](https://open.spotify.com/track/5qMjtrGnezsafpH4oqg7oU?si=bWyjal6jTY-M5Pd27OQDMg) \- Jasmine Thompson
> 

> 
> Here is my full [Ray|Saeran playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/user/miracook/playlist/3V4kE8LluCwgSHDdgAFgW7?si=40TxZSzUSe2IhgnAJ2EgnQ) for anyone that wants to check it out.  
>   
> As always, thanks for reading! ❤️


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